


A Binding Time in a Tent

by barbex



Series: Out of the shadow, into the mess [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Butt Plugs, F/M, Inquisitor Carver Hawke, Light Bondage, Merrill in DA:I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:55:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25387144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barbex/pseuds/barbex
Summary: It's very stressful to be the inquisitor.Luckily, Merrill knows how to make Carver relax.Part of the Inquisitor Carver Hawke AU.
Relationships: Carver Hawke/Merrill
Series: Out of the shadow, into the mess [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1182686
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	A Binding Time in a Tent

**Author's Note:**

> Somewhere in the Hinterlands, in a soundproof tent... Merrill is the boss.

* * *

* * *

"Cassandra, I really need —"

"No."

Carver looks up from his paper where he wrote down everything he had to take care of. "No?"

"No." Cassandra wears a smug grin on her face, unlike he has ever seen before. 

"You don't even know what I wanted to talk about."

"It doesn't matter, I've been instructed to decline anything tonight."

"Instructed?" Carver looks around. "Instructed by whom?"

"Daisy, for the most part," Varric drawls as he comes up from behind a tree. He holds a bundle of flowers in his hand that he apparently just picked and flicks a few wilted leaves off them. "Daisy said that we're all way too stressed and I couldn't agree more. So we decided that it's time for a break." He ties a red ribbon around the flowers as a blushing Cassandra watches him. 

Varric smiles at her but then looks at his flowers, looks at Carver, and picks out a single blue flower from the bundle. He hands it to Carver and grins at him. "Merrill is waiting for you in your tent. The guards are set, we're far away from the King's Highway, so with a little luck we'll have a peaceful night tonight. Take a break before you break, Junior." 

Carver stares dumbly at the blue flower in his hand and then back at Varric. "But — "

"Shoo," Varric says and waves him off. He holds the flowers out to Cassandra and bows. "My lady, would you be so kind as to offer me your company?"

Cassandra turns even redder. "Yes," she says, somewhat muffled by her hand pressed to her mouth. She takes the flowers and links her arm with Varric's, a huge smile on her face. Varric smiles up to her and leads her towards the fire, where one can just about make out a colorful blanket and a bottle of wine waiting.

Carver looks at the paper in his hand and stuffs it back in his pocket. "Might as well..." he grumbles and walks over to the tent at the edge of the camp. It's easily recognisable by the wards glittering on the ground around it and from afar it looks like the tarp is glowing too.

When he ducks into the tent, the first thing he notices are the magical sparkles floating under the tarp, illuminating the room in calm, golden light. The tent is warm, as if a fire is alight somewhere but he knows that it's magical. The floor is covered with several blankets and he hurries to take off his shoes so that he doesn't track dirt on them.

Merrill sits under a bright floating light with her sketchbook on her knees, working on a drawing with several birds. She looks up when he comes in and puts the sketchbook away. The bright glowing ball blinks out and the only light left comes from the floating stars under the tent roof.

"Vhenan, there you are." She stands up and tiptoes towards him, hiding something behind her back. She only wears a silky robe, tied loosely with a ribbon around her waist and it's not really hiding the fall of her breasts and the golden glow of her skin. Carver's mouth waters and he urgently rips off his gloves to touch her.

"No," Merrill says, holding up her hand.

"I'm hearing a lot of 'Nos' tonight," Carver complains.

"Oh, don't pout, little Herald." Merrill steps behind him and puts her hands on his waist. "Tonight you will only do what I tell you. I will give you orders and you will not question me."

Carver tries to turn to see her face but she holds him straight with surprising strength. "Not at all?"

"If something is going over your limits, you say 'Orlais' and I'll stop but apart from that, you'll just do what I say."

Carver is momentarily speechless. "Have you spent too much time with the Iron Bull by any chance?"

Merrill's voice is suddenly close to his head and her lips brush over his ear lobe. "I don't need some qunari to tell me how to handle you."

Carver swallows hard, arousal tensing in his abdomen. "Ehm, yes."

"I just want to help you to relax, to forget everything for tonight," she murmurs into his ear. "Will you trust me?"

"Yes," Carver says before she even finished the question. 

Merrill takes a step back. "Take off your pants, don't turn around."

He fumbles with the laces on his clothes, feeling Merrill's gaze on his back like burning flames. When he steps out of his pants and socks, he starts to undo the buttons on his jacket but stops. She didn't tell him to do that.

Her hands touch his hips and Carver realizes that he forgot to breathe. 

"On your knees."

Carver gasps and lowers himself down on his knees. Merrill leans over him and finally he can see her face. She smiles with a hint of mischievousness and kisses his forehead. 

"Close your eyes."

"But I want to see you."

Merrill tsks at him. "Always with the demands, little Herald. Now close your eyes."

He dutifully closes his eyes and then Merrill wraps a silken cloth over them and ties it behind his head. From that moment on, her hands seem to never leave his body. She takes off his clothes one by one, stroking over every bit of revealed skin as she uncovers him, until he is naked. She presses herself against his back and he can feel that she untied the band around her waist, letting the robe fall open. 

"Lie down," she orders. "On your stomach." 

Carver lies down carefully, adjusting his already hardening cock against his stomach. Merrill strokes along his arms, arranging them so that his cheek rests on his hands. She straddles his back and begins to massage his shoulders and arms. Her hands are warm and slippery and he frankly doesn't care if it's because of magic or warmed oil. Her fingers dig deep into his muscles, kneading and squeezing at knots he didn't even know were there. 

She moves lower, massaging the muscles on either side of his spine until they feel like pudding. Then she treats his lower back, his ass cheeks despite his giggles and then each leg until his whole body feels like well cooked porridge.

"Turn around," she says softly, guiding him with her hands. She keeps touching him, a fingertip here, a thigh pressed against him there. Without sight, every touch feels more significant, grounding him to her.

When he lies stretched out, she places his arms above his head. Then she straddles him again, now her soft, wet core pressing against his rapidly hardening cock. But she ignores that and keeps massaging his shoulders, his chest, until she comes to the flat of his stomach. Now she moves, sliding down and wrapping her hand around his cock, slow tugs teasing him. 

Carver moans, straining after her touch but a firm press of her hand has him settle his hips. He understands, he is only supposed to take what she gives, not to demand of her. But he still can't help but whine when she stops stroking him. 

"Shh, soon, vhenan," Merrill says. "Turn back around, on your knees, you chest on the ground."

He does it with only a little protest. Merrill corrects his position with gentle shoves here and there, until he's lying with his face on the floor and his knees tucked under him. She kisses his neck, her hand drawing circles on his lower back until he relaxes.

Her hand leaves his back, only to reappear at his neck. She lays a soft rope over his neck, threading it under his shoulders and then quickly wraps the ends several times around his arms until she reaches his wrists. She pulls his wrists together on his back and with the same rope, starts a pattern around his hips, criss crossing over his lower back and between his legs. With the blindfold he can't picture it but it feels like she's wrapping him into a harness of crisscrossed ropes until he can't move anymore if he tries.

Merrill ties one last knot on his back and then feels along every rope, sliding her finger under every press against his skin. He shivers, the roughness of the ropes, the security of being bound, it all mixes into a hazy feeling in his head. He sinks into the binds, the soft bite of the ropes holding him.

"How do you feel?" she asks.

Carver needs a bit to find his voice and when he speaks the words seem to come from far away. "Feel good. Good."

Merrill's hand strokes over his back, pulling at the crisscrossing ropes. It increases the pressure between his legs, where two ropes press against his testicles and another cross of ropes presses his erection against his stomach. 

He moans, sinking deeper into the hold of the binds, his own weight increasing the pressure. Merrill leans over his back, and her hands press against his cock from both sides, using the crossed ropes to rub him. He cries out, everything feels so sensitive, his whole body responding to her touch, it's almost too much.

Her hands move away and he whimpers. But then something warm presses against his hole and he lets out a breath to let it in. It's just a small thing, not stretching him but it seems to hum with vibration. As it settles right over his most sensitive place, it starts to vibrate for real and he groans. 

"Do you like that?"

He can only answer in a low moan. 

Merrill giggles. "And now vhenan, it's time to let go."

As she speaks, warmth floods from her hand on his back and her other hand takes his cock out of the confining ropes and strokes him in earnest. Pleasure builds up impossibly fast, tension rippling through his stomach. He moans loudly as Merrill increases the speed of her stroking.

"Let go."

Carver cries out and falls, or floats, or possibly leaves his body, he isn't quite sure. Pleasure rushes through his veins in a mindblowing orgasm that temporarily has him see stars behind the blindfold. He spills over Merrill's hand, sinking even deeper into the binds and then collapses into her arms, still tied but held by her as waves of bliss wash through him.

When he comes back to himself, Merrill loosens the rope with nimble fingers, massaging his skin where they drop. 

"Do you feel alright?" she asks.

Carver murmurs something unintelligible and nuzzles her leg. She is still all around him, touching him with her body and he feels completely safe.

Merrill laughs quietly. "I take that as a yes." She unties another knot and the rope falls away from his lower body. With quick movements, she frees his wrists and arms, massaging the sections where the rope has dug into his skin. "I'm going to remove the blindfold now, be careful with opening your eyes."

It's still blessedly dark in the tent, only the floating lights illuminating it. Carver still has to blink a few times until the world is back in focus and he turns his head to look at Merrill. She smiles at him and his heart wants to leap out of his chest.

"I love you," he croaks, his voice not quite working. 

"I love you too, ma vhenan." Merrill lays the rope to the side and helps him to sit up. "Come on, let's get you on the cot."

"But you — "

"I'm fine," Merrill says, shaking her head. "Don't worry. But you must sleep now."

Carver wants to protest but his whole body feels like overcooked porridge and he lets Merrill lead him to their cot. 

He groans as he settles down. "Just a little nap and then I'll take care of you."

"Sure, vhenan."

Sleep drags him under before his ear even hits the pillow. The last thing he hears is Merrill's giggle.


End file.
